


Learning

by YourLocalPriestess



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, have some pre-N7 shep, not in here but eventuallyyyyy, pre-me1, some semi-graphic depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLocalPriestess/pseuds/YourLocalPriestess
Summary: Before May Shepard became The Commander Shepard, before she saved the galaxy, before she became N7, she worked her ass off just to survive. While working through her N5 on Palavan, she makes plenty of enemies on a planet where the species at large hates her own, but she makes an unlikely ally along the way.





	Learning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizDirected](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizDirected/gifts).



> A m i l l i o n thanks goes out to @joufancyhuh for beta-ing this fic. To MizDirected, I'm sorry I made you wait so long, and that this fic isn't holiday themed, but I gave it my level best <3
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! ^_^

“Alright, that’s enough!”

The voice of General Syltumus boomed across the arena. Shepard relaxed from her position in time with her sparring partner for the round, Maeus. She shook her hair out of her face as she turned to face the General on the overlooking balcony, not missing the glare her partner shot before he looked to the general as well.

“That’s enough for the day. Be here at 0500.”

He turned and left without another word, and the entire arena relaxed as partners broke into a dull roar of small talk and banter. Shepard sighed and picked up her discarded hair tie, which once again failed to last the duration of the fight. As she rose from her position, Maeus’ shoulder checked hers as she passed, knocking her a step back in the same second that Shepard threw her hand onto his bicep and spun him to face her.

“What the hell is your problem, soldier?”

He jerked his arm out of her grasp and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t belong on Palavan.”

Shepard felt warmth flood her face and arched a brow. “Big words from someone who routinely gets their ass kicked by me.”

“Listen,  _ pura _ ,” he snarled, stepping into her space, “your kind don’t belong here.”

“I was invited by the Hierarchy to train here,  _ soldier _ .” She rolled her eyes. “It’s people like you that keep holding this galaxy back.”

She moved past him and shook her head, almost disappointed when he didn’t try to stop her. He wasn’t the first to display his racism for all to see, and something told her an honest fight might do them all some good. It was enough that she had to fight the Alliance on whether or not Palavan could be suitable for N-training, but having the whole goddamn species in the same fucking boat was downright exhausting. And pointless. And fuck all annoying.

_ I need a shower. And a drink _ .

She typed in the key to her room and stripped down, ready to have the hot water wash away the lingering tension in her chest.

  
  


There weren’t many bars on Palavan that served alcohol she could drink. They mostly existed near the ports, as most levo species stuck to that area, having not been properly vaccinated for the planet’s radiation levels. The bars that served levo and  _ weren’t _ on the dock were few and far between, with the between being the shady parts of town that smelled like poverty and death.

But, those bars were a shorter walk than the docks.

Shepard pulled her hoodie tighter and began the long walk to  _ Calium _ . The hoodie itself was counterproductive to the heat the radiation provided, even in the evening, but some small comforts she wasn’t willing to sacrifice. She’d always been skilled at adapting, evolving and blending into whatever environment she needed to, but on days like today her stubbornness won out over that instinct, for better or worse.

She rounded another corner, into an alley that shaved fifteen minutes off the walk, and immediately felt the hairs on her arm stand up. She turned on her heel and narrowed her eyes at the shadowed space a few feet away. “Who’s there?”

Silence greeted her, but the prickling sensation that covered her skin didn’t leave. She rolled her shoulders and turned to continue on her path.

Her foot didn’t hit the ground before she felt a plated forearm against her neck, followed by a shockwave of pain that rippled throughout her body as she was slammed into the brick wall. She coughed, trying to catch her breath, and attempted to blink back the black spots hovering in her vision as she pushed against the arm.

“I tried to tell you,” the turian snarled, adding a little extra pressure as he did. His spit sprayed on her face, his breath reeking of  _ gurani _ . Her throat contracted in an attempt to gag, but the pressure he applied didn’t leave room for it to come out.

“Maeus,” she coughed, quirking her lip in a smirk. “If you wanted to go to the bar with me, you could’ve just asked.”

He huffed and kneed her in the gut, sucking the wind out of her anew, but he dropped his arm at last and let her bend in half as she gasped for air. She stared at the ground and attempted to assess what she could before the inevitable: She noticed that he was flanked by two others who were already standing in tense, defensive poses. Maeus’ feet did not reveal such tension. He looked almost relaxed.

But further back in the alley, deeper in the shadows, another figure stood leaning against the wall, obscured except for the frame of their legs. Were they with Maeus? Or just here for a show? She stowed that knowledge for later and straightened so she could aim her glare at the coward before her.

“Listen,” she grumbled, squaring up to her full height and not breaking eye contact with the turian. “We don’t have to do this, soldier. Let’s everyone walk away. Bygones, and all that.”

He smirked and shook his head, then looked at the friend to his left. “See? She knows where she stands.”

Shepard felt a flash of heat to her face and sighed. “Suit yourself.”

She threw her leg out and hooked it behind his spurs, pulling him to his knees. Maeus shouted as he made contact with the cobbled street. She yanked her leg free, pulling one of his spurs backward as she did. His friend on the left swung, wide, leaving her room to dodge, but not enough time to avoid the blow from the female turian to the right. Shepard coughed, and on her inhale, intercepted the woman’s next blow, twisting her arm and changing positions until she heard a sharp  _ snap _ . The woman screamed, distracting Shepard long enough as she disentangled herself from the turian’s broken limbs to allow Maeus’ friend to strike her at the back of the head.

She collapsed on the ground, barely catching herself, but arms were already looping behind hers, yanking her upright and restraining her until she thought they might snap if she pulled against them at all.

“Get the fuck  _ off _ !” She kicked wildly, but her legs were too short. She swung her head around, but collided only an armored carapace. Pain throbbed in her skull, but she ignored it. A quick glance around showed her that the female turian still lay useless on the ground, but Maeus gathered himself. 

The strange figure in the background hadn’t moved an inch.

Maeus rose slowly, leveling her with the full heat of his fury. One of his spurs jutted out at a 90-degree angle as he limped the few feet toward her. “Hold her still,” he growled.

Shepard shouted just as his fist hit her across the cheek. White numbness raced across her vision, followed by searing hot pain as her brain registered the  _ pop _ as her nose. She sputtered out a cough, blood and spit spraying out and across Maeus’ face as she did. Another blow hit her in the lower rib cage, resulting in a sharp stab of fire that drove away every other sensation. 

Three seconds passed and already she was having her ass handed to her. She needed to fight. She needed to move.

They would kill her.

Another blow hit her across the opposite cheek. Blackness seeped into the corners of her vision. Why was it so hard to hold up her head? To remember how to blink?

“Enough.”

She barely heard it, but the word was a command, and one that halted Maeus’ assault.

Maeus looked behind him. “Who’s there?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Shepard lifted her head as much as her strength allowed. Through her hair and the blood slipping down her face, she spied the figure at the end of the alley, still leaning into the shadows.

Maeus shook his head and chuckled. “Just move along, pal.” He turned back to her, his fist already curling anew. “Nothing to see here.” Shepard let her head hang as she flinched, but not before she saw the figure step out of the shadows.

“Fuck,” the female turian whispered, somewhere to Shepard’s left.

“What?” Maeus snapped, turning around again as he did.

“Put her down,” the figure ordered. All Shepard could make out were his armored feet; their silver glinted in the fading sunlight.

At once, the arms at her back dropped her. She landed in a heap, unable to catch her balance before she landed on the rib Maeus broke. She groaned, but made no move to adjust.

“We don’t want any trouble, sir,” she heard the turian say from behind, followed by the scuffle of feet backing away.

“This is insane,” Maeus snapped. “This isn’t Spectre business.”

“It is now. Get out of my sight.”

Maeus grumbled out a turian curse, but followed after his friend down the opposite end of the alley. The woman chased after them, a whimper attached to her every move. If it wasn’t for her own injuries, Shepard might have been able to appreciate the retreat.

As it currently stood, she could barely move, let alone feel properly smug.

When they were left with silence, save for the movement of the city and her own labored breath, Shepard forced herself to her knees and leaned on the balls of her feet as pushed her hair behind her ears. It was clumped in blood, but there were more important matters at hand it seemed, such as her throbbing nose and the apparent Spectre. She looked up and knew him at once. Saren Arterius. Spectre. Legend. Probably an asshole. Apparent life saver. She sighed and looked down the slope of her nose, now showing almost directly under the sight line of her right eye. As she lifted her hands to adjust it–

“You should let a medical professional see to that.”

She licked her lips, the metallic taste of her blood invading her mouth, and glanced from him to her nose “Thanks for the advice.” She snapped it into place, a squeak of a cry escaping her as the cartilage realigned. “By the time I got there, and they’d seen everyone ahead of me, it would have set. Better to rip the bandaid off, so to speak.” When he didn’t reply, only stood there with his arms crossed and expression blank, she began to push herself up to her feet, groaning all the while.

“You’re Shepard.”

“And you’re Saren.”

He remained silent.

“Right.” She sighed and clutched her side when the movement sent sharp pains up her chest. “Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to head back to my dorm to see the medic and take my weight in omnigel.”

As she passed him, his hand on her arm stopped her. The gauntlet was cold against her skin, even through her hoodie. It wasn’t uncommon to see turians in full armor walking the streets, but something about the flawlessness in the silver set added an air of intimidation that almost seemed superfluous.

“They shouldn’t have done that.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“But you shouldn’t be here,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard her.

She frowned and jerked her arm free, doing her best to ignore the jolt of paint that followed. “Heard it all before,  _ sir _ . If you feel so strongly, you should’ve let them finish the job.” She began to walk away, but his voice halted her again.

“Why are you here?”

Her eyes rolled of their own accord as she looked back at him. “The same as the rest of them. I’m here to train and serve, and the Hierarchy offers the most rigorous trainings of any military group in the galaxy.” She nodded in the direction the others had gone. “For many reasons. And I intend to learn.”

The silence that followed was almost palpable in the air. Saren himself still hadn’t changed anything, a towering figure of expressionless power, but part of her thought she might have seen his eyes narrow slightly.

“Go see the medic, Shepard.”

Her shoulders sagged, as if a weight had lifted, and she waved one hand haphazardly over her shoulder as she turned away. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Saren didn’t say anything more to her and the rest of her journey went uninterrupted, but his words lingered in her head Something in the tone shifted when he dismissed her, for that was what it was, a dismissal, and she couldn’t quite place the change, but it niggled at the back of her mind. She was sure it meant something important.

**Author's Note:**

> YOWZA. There's a thing. That I did. Yup.
> 
> Anywhoooo, I had a lot of fun writing this Shep and her interactions with turians in general. I apologize again for making you wait so long Miz. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
> 
> BUT, I'll shut up now. I hope everyone's holidays/celebrations/days in general were lovely and filled with joy and other good things. You are all delightful rays of light and I appreciate you so much.
> 
> Any comments/kudos/what-have-yous are always appreciated <3


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